


Have a Coke w/ Your [Better Half]

by toewsyourheart



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2015 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jealous Jonny, M/M, Napping, Newly Boyfriends, Sleepy Cuddles, Universe Alteration, silly gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toewsyourheart/pseuds/toewsyourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny's grumpy, and Patrick's late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Coke w/ Your [Better Half]

**Author's Note:**

> I did this back in June for a very important friend and posted it to tumblr, but it never found its way to ao3, so here it is. I'm not writing anything new, only posting what's already finished as of now, and if anyone wishes to speak with me about the Patrick situation, my tumblr information will be in the endnotes. 
> 
> Now, as for the thing: 
> 
> This story takes place during the 2015 playoffs and is a preamble of sorts for a larger thing I did (satan's fanfiction, for those who are familiar) that I'll post later, probably. This Jonathan and Patrick have only been together "officially" since the 2014 offseason.
> 
> *Not to be confused with 'Work Song' verse or anything therein. This is not that.*

Jonny couldn’t be more annoyed, probably, the back of his neck hot, hands clammy against his thighs. 

He’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the hotel bed, eyes trained on the clock, practically fuming out his ears, _still_ waiting for Patrick to get back from lunch.

It’s 2:59, and if they weren’t in the middle the playoffs, Jonny would have more chill about this, really he would. But they _are_ , and he and Patrick have a fucking arrangement. 

On game days, they’re down for their nap by 2:45. 

The phrasing makes Jonny feel like a toddler and like he’s scolding one, but the fact remains: 2:45 at the absolute latest, is the deal. Doesn’t have to be exactly 2:45, and every nap doesn’t even have to be the same length, but by two-fucking-forty five, they better at least be in bed. 

It’s fourteen—oh wait, look!—fifteen minutes past that, and counting! 

Patrick’s always reliable, complies with the rule, which is pretty lax, by the way, as far as rules go. Hell, _Patrick_ came up with it, for Christ’s sake! It wouldn’t even be _that_ big of a deal—aside from the whole ‘fucking the integrity of their agreement’ aspect of the situation—if Jonny could sleep soundly without him. 

Jonny _can’t,_ though,is the thing, and it’s not like that’s his fault either; he hasn’t slept alone on the road one single time in the last, oh, eight years—for naps or at night, barring one of them being out injured or something else stupid going on, of course. 

The other thing is, Patrick’s been using that fact to his advantage for almost as long, never hesitates to play that card in squabbles that lead to Jonny wanting to kick him out of bed. Sometimes he’ll try and appeal to Jonny’s sympathies—‘C’mon Jon, you know I can’t fuckin’ sleep good without you’. Or he’ll go the defiant route—‘Oh shut up and scoot over, jackass. You know you can’t fuckin’ sleep good without me’. 

Both tactics work, as both statements are true, and the co-dependency has only intensified since rookies—they progressed to napping together at home as well, then to losing their clothes, then to no nothing with anybody else—which makes this situation all the more infuriating. 

Also, Patrick gets so pissy when his own nap is fucked with, so he shouldn’t be screwing around like this during the playoffs, when the rule is in effect, when there’s so much at stake—it’s just common courtesy! Jonny needs his damn nap, and he needs it to be good, okay? 

It wouldn’t be so bad if—

God, Jonny just doesn’t understand why Patrick’s gotta be so _chummy_ all the time. Seriously, it’s like he’s been captain of the fucking welcome-wagon or something since the start of the season. 

First, it was Richie—which Jonny swears, he’s basically over letting that get to him—now Vermette, and, in this particular situation, it’s _both_ of them, making the aforementioned swear difficult to uphold. 

Patrick’s at lunch with them and sixteen minutes late, at the current moment. 

Jonathan Toews, Captain of the Chicago Blackhawks, is thrilled. The newer guys in their locker room feel at home. Couldn’t ask for a better situation. 

Jonathan Toews, captain of needing to sleep and co-captain of a real relationship with Patrick, is less than enthused, and frankly, tired of feeling like he’s fucking competing for Patrick’s attention; he doesn’t need to be worrying with that right now, during the _playoffs._  

Later, in hindsight, Jonny will probably realize that most of this exaggerated anger is just playoff nervousness or something, taking shape in the form of frustrations with Patrick, but hey, that shit’s 20/20, right?

Presently, Jonny’s seeing too much red for things like logic, other than to determine that this is, in fact, an unfair and blatant breach of their long-established rule. 

Of course, Patrick picks that very moment to waltz through the door, whistling—whistling!—and immediately proves Jonny wrong on one account: he _can_ be more annoyed. 

“Oh, you’re still up?” Patrick asks innocently, not even bothering to come in quietly, clearly already aware that Jonny would be—like _he_ wouldn’t still be up if it were Jonny hanging him out to dry past 2:45. Patrick would probably pretend to be asleep, just to be a dick. 

Jonny opens his mouth to speak, then spots what Patrick’s got in his hands from across the room and practically chokes. “Are you—is that a Walgreens’ sack? It’s 3:02, and you’ve been to Walgreens?” 

“Look, I know I’m late, and I’m _real_ sorry,” Patrick answers apologetically, toeing off his shoes. “The restaurant took forever with the checks, and Vermy needed to swing by and get some stuff.” 

Patrick shakes the plastic sack in the air as he walks over to the bed and deposits it near Jonny’s legs. He considers kicking one out and knocking the thing off in the floor, but he’s immediately distracted by what’s left in Patrick’s hand. 

“A-Are you drinking a _Diet Coke_ , Kaner?” Jonny asks incredulously, because what the actual fuck? Those things are—“They’re terrible for you!” 

Patrick recoils a bit at Jonny’s petulant tone, though he should have expected Jonny’d be mad—he’s so late! “First off, I’ll drink it if I _want_ , and second, I got it to butter you up, mostly.” 

Patrick’s all grins and it makes Jonny want to put him in a headlock. Why on Earth would he—“Oh, yeah, no, because that’s _exactly_ what I’m interested in. You nailed it, bud.” 

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby,” Patrick scolds, tilting the can upside down to make a show of it. “It’s not even open!” 

“Then why the hell’d you—” 

“Would you just let me!” Patrick cuts him off, still looking infuriatingly smug for Jonny’s liking, and Jonny hardens his mouth into a flat line, fights to keep quiet. Go ahead and flush this nap down the toilet, or whatever. 

“Like I was sayin,’ we went to Walgreens and I was over getting you a protein bar and some _water_ —” Patrick continues, emphatically removing the unopened bottle from the sack and handing it to Jonny. “And I saw this, and I dunno, I—thought of you, so I bought it.” 

Patrick turns the can around to show Jonny what it says. It’s one of those ‘Have a Diet Coke with My [insert here]’ things. 

This one says ‘Better Half,’ and the sentiment whacks Jonny straight in his chest, cheeks flushing and fondness clear on his face as he reaches out to take the can from Patrick. Jonny stares at it for a second and knows then and there that he’s lost this round, despite the fact he’s still fucking pissed that Patrick’s so late; he scooped up too many brownie points on his way here. 

Patrick’s looking at Jonny with these soft eyes, brows furrowed in the most adorable way, and Jonny, well, he’s easy for it, but—“The better half that honors their napping commitments, for sure,” he mutters dryly.

“C’mon, I’m tryin’ to be a-a good fuckin’ boyfriend—” Patrick swallows, and mhm, still a little weird to say, but not actually weird; they were meant for this. “—and look, I even got band-aids for your disgusting smushed finger.” 

Jonny picks up the box after Patrick tosses it toward him, smirking when he sees that they’re Captain America themed. Patrick would. “You fightin' me for better half?”

“Nah, I’ll stick with my original assessment,” Patrick concedes, bracing himself on his knuckles as he leans forward to give Jonny a peck on the cheek, and alright, Jonny’s basically over it at this point; he’s about to get what’s coming to him anyway. 

“Take your clothes off, so we can salvage what’s left of this nap,” Jonny says, scooting back to get under the covers, placing his never-to-be-opened Diet Coke on the bedside table.

'Mmm, you got it,' Patrick replies with an eyebrow waggle, then moves the Walgreens stuff to do as he’s told, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed. 

Before Jonny knows it, he’s got what he wants, though roughly twenty minutes later than anticipated: Patrick’s body in close behind his, arm slung over his waist.  

Jonny settles back against him, breathes in deeply, and _yeah_ , this feels good—this is why he doesn’t sleep without Patrick. 

“Sorry I was late,” Patrick mumbles against the back of his neck, beard tickling the skin there. 

“Better late than never, I guess,” Jonny relents around a yawn, voice quieter now, thickening with drowsiness. “And, uh, you are, you know?” 

“I am what?” Patrick asks, tightening his hold around Jonny’s middle, and he knows what the fuck Jonny means, he just wants to hear it. 

“A good boyfriend,” Jonny says sincerely, resting his arm over the top of Patrick’s. He may have broken the rules and half-ruined Jonny’s nap, but they’ve been at this a long time. Patrick always makes up for it. “I didn’t get you a Coke or anything to prove it, but—” 

“Shut up, you liked it,” Patrick challenges, teasing smile clear in his voice, and presses a kiss beneath Jonny's ear. “You’ll probably keep it for all of eternity.” 

And Jonny just sighs, because—“Yeah…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr: [toewsme1988](http://toewsme1988.tumblr.com)!


End file.
